


Those Damn Tevinter Curses

by GhostGarrison



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: 3rd Person Limited, Anal Fingering, Bottom Anders, Consent, Hand Jobs, Illustrated, Kissing, M/M, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 03:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10822710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGarrison/pseuds/GhostGarrison
Summary: To many, it’s considered a rite of passage as an adolescent mage in Kinloch Hold. To others, it’s a curse to be forgotten. Every couple of years, an apprentice—be it a studious or mischievous one—stumbles upon a book hidden somewhere within the confines of the tower. This book is not ordinary by any means, but rather contains ancient and forbidden Tevinter spells that can do both miraculous and horrendous things.Anders is hit by a strange curse that makes him feel insatiable lust, painful if left unsatisfied, and he goes to Karl for help.





	Those Damn Tevinter Curses

**Author's Note:**

> "Sex Pollen" was a popular trope in the Supernatural fandom, so I thought I'd try my hand at bringing it to Dragon Age, Kanders-style. Completely shameless, unabashed, uncensored porn. Skip to end notes if you have concerns regarding age and consent with this scenario.

To many, it’s considered a rite of passage as an adolescent mage in Kinloch Hold. To others, it’s a curse to be forgotten.

Every couple of years, an apprentice—be it a studious or mischievous one—stumbles upon a book hidden somewhere within the confines of the tower. This book is not ordinary by any means, but rather contains ancient and forbidden Tevinter spells that can do both miraculous and horrendous things.

+

It’s barely a quarter-hour before supper when Enchanter Godwin finds Karl in his library nook, bent over a pile of scribbled parchment. He’s been studying these manuscripts for weeks, trying to decipher their meaning and translate it to a more practical application of creation magic. In all honesty, Karl is rather relieved at the sudden appearance of his fellow mage. He could use a break from the endless frustration and grey hair these damned notes have caused him.

“Karl,” Godwin begins, leaning a hip against the wall next to the desk and crossing his arms. “Guess what some poor soul stumbled upon in the highest shelves of the western library this morning?”

 _‘The highest shelves?’_ Karl thinks, wondering why it sounds so familiar. _‘Western library?’_

Then it hits him. The book. “No… Don’t say—”

Godwin chuckles and nods, seeing the realization written all over his face. “Mhm.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Karl rolls his eyes before dropping his head into his hands. That book was trouble, the root of a chain of mischief and grief between apprentices when he was that age. “I thought we hid that very well. How has someone found it already?”

The other enchanter shrugs, still looking entirely too gratified about the whole ordeal. “It’s been a few years, it was bound to happen.”

Karl sighs, agreeing that it was indeed inevitable. “Who found it?”

“One of Cera’s students, but as you can imagine, it’s already made the rounds.”

“Bunch of fools, they are,” he mutters.

“If you don’t recall, we were a bunch of fools only a few years ago,” Godwin reminds him, slightly amused.

Karl does remember. It was only just about three years prior, the dry spring before his Harrowing. Looking back, everyone including him was young and stupid and constantly looking for a way to entertain themselves. The tedious boredom laid upon them like a thick, stifling blanket, and the apprentices at the time were not ones to sit idly.

And then someone found the book.

It was a dusty old thing—the cover in tatters, the pages crinkled and yellowed from age, the spine nearly falling apart from how many times it’s been cracked open. There were hand-written notes scribbled in every margin, not a page left unembellished with additional annotations. Though the book originated in Tevinter and dated back at least a hundred years, it was a product of generations of Kinloch Hold mages, unwittingly collaborating on translating such a strange piece of contraband.

Then it all began.

Not fully understanding the purpose and power of the spells and curses, apprentices started casting them on each other for nothing more than sheer entertainment and distraction from their otherwise dreary and monotonous lives. Some apprentices switched bodies for a time, others spoke backward for a day, and Karl specifically recalls the poor soul whose skin remained green for an entire month no matter how many Silences and Dispels the templars cast on her.

Like a handful of his peers, Karl was hit with something different, a spell aimed at driving the victim out of their mind with lust and insatiable need. His mind was consumed with it, and the longer he left it unsatisfied, the more uncomfortable and even painful it became.

For some, the spell itself wore off in a day but most found quicker ways to discharge it. Karl found himself between the legs of a very willing body, and they rode out the storm together in the broom closet of the second floor for the entire afternoon.

Looking back, it’s a good memory, but Karl still wouldn’t wish the curse on anyone.

There are a considerable number of apprentices missing from the meal hall during supper, but Karl doesn’t pay it any mind. He keeps his eyes and ears open, curious as to what the apprentices might have gotten up to with such a book at their disposal. Across the table from him, Petra and Godwin discuss their ideas.

“Hopefully no one will be turning colors this time,” Petra says, speaking from experience. “Or at least turn a more flattering color, like purple. Or maybe red.”

Godwin chuckles at the memory and Petra smacks him in the arm. “Well at least you weren’t in someone else’s body! I was in a girl’s body, for five hours!”

“I’m in a girl’s body every moment of my life.”

“Point taken,” Godwin amends. He glances around the room before perching himself on his elbows, leaning across the table and speaking in a hushed tone. “I overheard Senior Enchanter Sweeney talk about when the book was found when he was an apprentice. He started levitating and couldn’t get back down. Had to spend all day up by the ceiling until someone threw him a rope and tugged him back down. Then they tethered him to a stack of books.”

“I’d pay to see that happen to a few of the apprentices,” Karl mutters. He shouldn’t think that, but some of the younger mages of the tower are… well, simply crude and ill-mannered toward anyone older. Karl does his best to avoid them and the trouble that always follows, but he can’t escape the small group of students he’s been assigned to tutor every afternoon. 

There’s a few he doesn’t mind, however, like Lily the smart and helpful girl or Brade who doesn’t speak much but has shown an aptitude for force magic. 

There’s also Anders, who has more recently captured his attention. Though he’s mischievous and cheeky, the young mage is kind and caring to his peers, and has pointedly never messed with Karl in ways he’s has with other enchanters. Not only that, Anders is also handsome and charming and never fails to fluster Karl with his candid and sometimes obscene flirtations. There are whispers among the senior enchanters that he’ll be assigned to Karl for additional lessons in spirit healing—and if these rumors were true, Karl wouldn’t mind too much. In fact, it might just be bearable. Enjoyable, even.

The news of the book’s outcomes spreads rapidly after supper, while mages are performing their evening duties before lights out. Someone does indeed turn green this time, much to Petra’s dismay, and Godwin is disappointed to hear there are no apprentices uncontrollably floating near the rafters. On the way back to his quarters to retire for the evening, two giggling apprentices rush past Karl, trailed closely by an irritated templar.

“Kcid nwapskrad kcus og nac sralpmet uoy fo lla!” One of them calls over their shoulder, grabbing the other’s wrist and breaking out into a full sprint down the hall.

“It’s time for curfew!” The templar calls after them, the tempo of the clanking armor increasing as he picks up speed. “Get back to the dormitory!”

“Reven!”

The outright display of childish defiance makes Karl smile and shake his head. Thankfully for all involved, such mischievous uses of magic aren’t actually harmful to anyone but themselves. Unless someone severely steps out of line or translates a brand new and devastating spell, apprentices shouldn’t fear for anything more than a slap on the wrist or extra duties for a week. 

If Karl didn’t know any better, he’d swear there was a few templars who enjoyed the break in the often unbearable monotony.

With his bunkmate Niall already asleep in the other bed, Karl is jotting down the day’s events in his daily journal in the light of a single candle when there’s a hushed but hurried knock on his door. He frowns. It’s after the last roll call, so Karl isn’t expecting any company or visitations. 

Standing, Karl smooths the fabric of his nightshirt against his thighs in an attempt to make himself presentable for whichever templar or senior mage is visiting. 

He certainly isn’t expecting who he sees.

The strawberry-blond shade of his hair is instantly recognizable. Still dressed in his day robes, Anders stands on his doorstep, looking anxious and smaller than his full height would suggest. Karl’s eyes widen at the sudden and forbidden appearance of the apprentice. Bracing his hands on the doorframe, he leans forward to glance up and down the fortunately-empty hall before quickly shuffling the boy into the room.

Once safely inside and out of sight, Karl takes a moment to look over the apprentice in the dim light of the few precious candles in his room. Anders’ breaths come quickly but quietly, softly panting as if he just ran down the hall. His skin is flushed with heat, and Karl can see his shoulders shiver, his hands tremble as they fidget. He seems… not quite ill, but—

But then Anders nervously glances up at Karl with a look in his eye that immediately strikes him as familiar.

He’s been cursed.

Karl clears his throat quietly, unsure of what to do in this situation, of what to do with a handsome young man under a magical aphrodisiac calling on him at this time of night. 

“Apprentice Anders,” he begins, trying to sound formal, detached, anything to put distance between himself and the other man standing only inches away. He keeps his voice low, eyes flickering toward his slumbering bunkmate. “How can I—”

He’s cut short by lips pressed over his.

For one glorious second, Karl enjoys it and returns the kiss. Anders feels so good beneath his hands, his body warm and lithe, tempting him to let his hands wander. But then his mind thinks better of it, and Karl wraps his fingers around the apprentice’s shoulders to gently push him away. Anders let out a low, disappointed whine when they parted and a piece of Karl’s heart echoed the sentiment but he had to be strong.

“What’s this about?” He asks quietly, wishing to hear just what’s going on inside the apprentice’s head. This, the kiss and more, couldn’t be real. It’s all the curse.

“Karl,” Anders begins, swallowing. He’s still trembling, holding onto Karl’s arms as he leans against him, brushing his growing erection against him. “I want… I need… please.”

“None of that,” Karl tsks, almost adding _‘yet’_ without realizing. He steers Anders toward his bed, hands on his shoulders until the apprentice bows beneath them and sits on the edge. Karl takes a seat next to him, sparing a quick glance at Niall who is thankfully still dead to the world on the other bed. 

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Karl thinks. Memories of his time under the spell flood back—body hot and shaking, overtaken by unshakable need, discomfort growing into pain with every passing moment he didn’t do something about it. If Anders was struck by such a spell at midday, he must be miserable now.

Then he remembers how desperate he was for someone, anyone to satisfy this need with. Anders is here, in his shared bedroom, looking to him to help ease his pain, dull the throbbing ache. But why?

“Why are you here?” Karl asks finally, his eyes flickering to the tall wiry man next to him. He wants to know—no, he _needs_ to know. No decisions will be made until he does.

Anders’s uncomfortable expression turns to one of questioning. “I need… your help. There was a spell and—”

“I know about the spell,” Karl says, ignoring the way Anders’ head whips up at the information. “I meant why are you _here_ , with me, instead of seeking out another apprentice in the same situation as you?” _‘Why come to me out of everyone else in this tower? Why trust me with this?’_ he doesn’t say.

Karl watches him carefully, careful not to push or pull the apprentice in any direction. He finds himself surprised about how willing he is to help Anders, but only if he gets consent. _Real_ consent, not just the spell talking, tricking his mind into thinking he wants Karl when he really doesn’t.

“I…” Anders begins softly, voice trailing off as he mutters. Hands fidgeting uncontrollably in his lap, he casts his eyes away to avoid him.

Karl’s heart jumps at what he thinks he hears, but he has to be sure. _‘Please Maker, let it be true.’_ He dips his head, catching the apprentice’s gaze and holding it. “Hm? I didn’t quite catch that.”

Anders’ already flushed face turns the brightest shade of red, nearly glowing in the warm light of the candles. “I wanted it to be you. Only you.”

There it is.

But Anders keeps talking, rambling and nervous. “It’s so painful and you’ve always been so nice and gentle to me, I knew you could help me. I’ve had feelings for you since the day I met you, before you were Harrowed when you were just an apprentice like the rest of us, and… Honestly I can’t imagine going through this with anyone but you.”

It’s all almost too much for Karl to handle, this sudden confession of feelings kept inside for many years. All of those come-ons, flirtations, and advances heavily laced with suggestive innuendo… they were real. His feelings are real.

Which means _this_ is real.

Making his decision, Karl gently maneuvers the both of them on the bed, laying down and pulling Anders on top. The apprentice immediately jumps aboard, taking initiative. Slim hips roll against Karl’s, and he can feel Anders’ rock-hard erection stirring up attention in his own. Dipping his head, Anders’ lips press against his before trailing down, finding the taut column of his neck and kissing just beneath the beard there. Karl savors the feeling of such affection, letting the apprentice do what he pleases.

“Not enough,” Anders grumbles after a time, frustrated with the lack of satisfying friction.

Dropping his knees to straddle Karl’s hips, he sits up to peel the robes from his body. As the clasps come undone and the layers pulled away, more and more beautiful freckled skin is exposed and Karl drinks it in. Slim shoulders, pert dusty rose-colored nipples, a flat stomach with a fine dusting of dark blond hair trailing down from his navel to his dick, hard and weeping at the tip.

The second his robes hit the stone floor, Anders is back on him, crushing their lips together. His tongue feverishly plunders Karl’s mouth while he grinds his hips down without a thick wool barrier. Karl reaches between them and takes both of them in hand, pumping in a good rhythm that earns him encouraging stifled gasps and moans. The roll of Ander’s hips into his hand grows more and more frantic, a steep crescendo until the apprentice comes—hips stuttering, then jerking, stopping only to come over Karl’s hand with a shuddering sigh.

Karl’s eyes slide open, blinking to focus on the other man in the low lighting. Anders’ face reddens, looking a little embarrassed.

“I’ve never… never that fast,” he says sheepishly.

“You’re going to be a extra sensitive,” Karl says, skimming a teasing hand up a slender thigh to settle on Anders’ bony hip. Maker, he’s so skinny. “And you’ll definitely be doing that a few more times tonight.”

In fact, speaking from personal experience, Karl knows he’ll be able to wring many more orgasms out of the apprentice before the curse starts to wear off.

Anders pushes himself up and looks down to examine the wet spots of where his come is drying on Karl’s nightshirt. He slips his fingers underneath where it’s bunched up at his stomach, pushing it up a little before pointedly looking back up to the enchanter. Karl catches on quickly and smiles, leaning up to help Anders pull it off him. It joins the pile on the floor and this time, Karl is the one shivering, not from the cold but knowing there’s now nothing separating their bodies.

Taking advantage of the apprentice’s pliant body, Karl shuffles them both until he’s pressed against Anders’ back, spooning him facing the wall. After a quick glance over his shoulder at his still-sleeping roommate, Karl scoots his hips until they’re flush with Anders’ rear, his hard cock pressed in the crease. Reaching a hand around, Karl takes hold of Anders’ still-hard cock, fingers tightening along the shaft as he jerks him off. Anders squirms against him, pushing back against Karl’s cock and feebly trying to roll into Karl’s hand.

“Please, Karl, plea—” Anders starts, his voice less restrained than before. Somewhere behind them, Niall lets out a snort and stirs in the other bed, forcing Karl to clap the palm of his other hand over Anders’ mouth. 

The apprentice makes a low needy whine, but Karl hushes him. “Patience… in due time.”

Framed by two strong arms, Anders continues to wriggle in Karl’s grip, testing his restraint while he continues to lavish attention over his cock. Karl can feel Anders’ breath speed up, hot air blowing over the fingers still pressed firmly against his mouth, signaling that the apprentice is nearing yet another orgasm.

Body drawing tight like a bow, Anders’ hand flies down to wrap around Karl’s wrist in warning and moans into his other palm. Karl’s rhythm doesn’t slow or stutter and it’s only seconds until Anders is coming again, this time on the sheets. His moans are stifled by Karl’s hand, the noise vibrating through his bones as he comes down from the high.

He waits a few moments until Anders’ breath starts evening out before releasing his hold over his mouth. Anders sucks in a few deep, steadying breaths but otherwise stays quiet. Karl presses himself against the apprentice’s back, absently tracing nonsensical patterns over Anders’ stomach and feeling his body tremble beneath his fingers.

Ready for another go, Karl presses a finger and then a kiss to Anders’ lips before maneuvering him onto his knees, ass poised up in the air with his legs slightly apart. Anders’ face is pressed into the sheets, growing more red as he realizes how exposed the position leaves him.

Karl gently cups a firm cheek with his palm, gliding over the smooth skin until his fingertips tease along the edge of the hole there. Pausing, he leans over to whisper in Anders’ ear. “Have you ever done this with anyone before?”

The apprentice nods, turning his head to hide his face in the crook of his arm. “A few times,” he answers, voice hitching when Karl teases a thumb over his hole.

“Good,” Karl replies. Though he feels a tinge of jealousy, the fact Anders has experience will make things easier for the both of them. He twists and leans over the edge of the bed, reaching to the small space beneath it for something he knows is there. The vial of oil is just where he left it, half-empty from the last time he had enough privacy to get himself off.

He uncorks it with a _pop!_ and pours a little over his fingers before drizzling a bit more over Anders’ tight hole. The apprentice shivers at the sensation, moving his knees further apart as a few stray drops dribble down his thighs. 

_‘Eager,’_ Karl thinks to himself, smiling. He traces two wet fingers around the rim before slowly pushing one inside.

There’s a little resistance before Anders forces himself to relax, then the rest slides in with ease. Anders is hot and tight inside, clenching against his finger as he moves it in and out in a slow drag. He moves onto two fingers, the second tucking in with the first easier now. Anders softly hums in approval, pleased with two fingers so far, and Karl takes it as a signal to seek out what he’s looking for.

It doesn’t take long for him to find the right spot. He expertly crooks his fingers, brushing up against the sensitive nerve inside. The instant he hits it, Anders’ whole body jolts, gasping before biting into his forearm to keep himself from making too much noise. Karl massages the spot, wishing he had the opportunity to listen to Anders at full volume. He tugs a few times on his own cock to keep it from flagging.

Pausing only to add more oil, Karl keeps aiming for the spot just inside the apprentice, alternating between thrusting and stretching. In time, he’s able to add a third then a fourth finger, focusing on not only pleasure but preparation for what he’s planning.

In what seems like longer than the others, Anders finally comes with a bitten-off cry, his cock twitching as he shoots onto the sheets. The apprentice reaches between his legs, fingers wrapping around his cock to milk what he can from it while riding it out. He lets himself collapse, rolling to his back to grin lazily up at Karl before reaching and pulling him in for a kiss.

Karl can taste the hard-earned salty sweat on their lips as they move together. He can feel the apprentice smile against his mouth, breaking every few moments to catch his breath before chasing after him again. They lay there, Karl perched on his elbows to hover over Anders, lips gracelessly moving together without a care in the world outside this room.

The warm, lithe body beneath his is familiar, but not intimately so. Anders still retains evidence of his teenage years—gangly limbs and sharp hip bones, bright youthful skin lightly freckled despite the lack of sunlight—but one day, when fully grows into his own body, Anders will make a fine man.

When Karl breaks their lips apart, a small disappointed whine escapes Ander’s mouth. Sure, Karl would have been content to just kiss him for hours, but he knows that won’t satisfy the curse, dull the inescapable ache that he knows Anders feels deep in his bones.

Instead, Karl moves to slot behind the apprentice again, wrapping his arms around his trim waist and pulling them flush together. He smoothes his hand down a slim thigh, gingerly looping his fingers beneath Anders’ knee and guides it up and out of the way. His hand is replaced by Anders’, who keeps himself just where the enchanter wants him.

Kissing Anders on a lightly freckled shoulder, Karl lines himself up and begins slowly pressing in. Anders’ body seizes against him at first, but eventually gives way as Karl sinks in. He continues to litter Anders’ sharp shoulders and neck with affectionate kisses until he’s fully seated, hips pressed flat against his ass.

“Ready?” he murmurs breathlessly between kisses, waiting for Anders’ nod to continue.

Karl starts to roll his hips, slow shallow thrusts gradually growing faster, deeper. Wrapping a hand around Anders’ remarkably still-hard length, he pumps the other mage’s cock in rhythm, drawing out sharp, pleasurable gasps that Anders holds back by biting the edge of Karl’s pillow. It doesn’t last long, as Karl’s cock starts brushing over his prostate with every thrust.

_“K-Karl!”_

His reflexes are barely fast enough, hand flying up to clamp over the apprentice’s mouth before he can yell any more. Amber eyes nervously dart over his shoulder, studying Karl’s expression before nodding.

 _“Oh, for fuck’s sake,”_ grunts another, completely unexpected voice. 

Karl can feel Anders freeze in shock, both of them staying stock still. It feels like his heart has stopped beating, and Karl doesn’t want to turn and look his roommate in the face while still buried deep in the apprentice.

“Fine,” he starts, not bothering to hide the grumpiness in his tone. Niall quickly gathers the blanket and pillow from his bed before heading toward the door. “I’ll go sleep in the broom closet, templars be damned. ‘Cause apparently no one cares for the sanctity of sleep. Assholes.”

When the door swings closed, Karl lets go of Anders’ mouth as they both dissolve into laughter. He knows he should feel bad for essentially forcing his roommate out, but Karl can’t find it in himself to care. He’ll apologize the next morning, perhaps offer to find the poor man a willing bed partner of his own. It would make them even, by Karl’s count.

“You okay?” Karl asks him after a pause, to which Anders nods and shakily replies, “Yes.”

Despite the interruption, it doesn’t take much more to push Anders over the edge. From what Karl remembers, the curse doesn’t care for what’s in a person’s mind, only the exhausting need and drive for satisfaction. Anders is just past the deepest thralls of the hex, at the peak of sensitivity and stimulation which Karl knows how to exploit from experience. 

The apprentice comes over his fingers, this time with a near-delirious moan that escapes his lips unheeded and unrestrained. The sound is heady and honest and Karl wants to hear it again. 

And he will, Karl vows. He can tell that Anders has at least one left in him before the curse wears off, and though he’s mostly been focused on pleasuring Anders, Karl himself is close to his own orgasm.

Anders spins around the moment Karl gingerly pulls out, throwing his arms around his shoulders and kissing him hard. Karl feels like his breath is being stolen from his lungs, the younger mage bent on drawing the life from him. It’s passion and fire, but also gratitude and need—as if Anders _needed_ him, and was thankful to have him. Karl could truthfully say he felt the same.

Parting their lips for a second, Anders climbs on top of him, thin thighs spreading to straddle his hips before bending down to kiss him again. Fueled by the waning curse, Anders’ cock still stands at attention. Karl reaches toward it but Anders catches his hand by the wrist, holding it still for a moment before batting it aside. 

Anders rises to his knees, using one hand to guide Karl’s cock toward his hole. He lowers himself down slowly, Karl easily slipping into his loose hole. It’s an agonizing handful of seconds, seemingly stretching on forever, until Anders finally sinks down flush with Karl’s body. The apprentice tips his head back, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.

And, sweet Maker, he is glorious.

When Anders looks back to him, Karl can see just how blown his eyes are, deep black only ringed with the gold amber he’s often admired. Most of his blond hair has come loose from his ponytail, hanging around his face like the frame around a masterpiece. A small smirk grows on the apprentice’s lips as he braces both hands on Karl’s chest.

Pinned to the bed, Karl feels the air catch in his lungs as he gazes up at the other man in complete awe. Entire frame trembling, Anders begins riding him, eyes closing as his face turns to one of determination. Karl’s hands skate over the linen before settling on the top of Anders’ thighs, where he can feel the muscles working just beneath the skin.

Hands pressed to his chest, Karl can only lie back and watch the apprentice take control. With Niall out of the room, Anders doesn’t hold anything back, vocalizing his pleasure. Karl drinks in every last breath _“please”_ and _“oh Maker”_ and _“Karl”_ like a stolen Antivan brandy, as delicious as it is intoxicating. 

Heat pools deep beneath Karl’s stomach, the stirrings of an orgasm coming edging closer and closer with every passing moment. Karl desperately wishes he could feel Anders’ warm, soft lips against his own again, but he’d rather watch Anders chase after his own satisfaction without interruption.

 _“Ah, yes!”_ Anders gasps, keening as he teases a lip between his teeth. His movements become more frenzied and unbridled, riding Karl wildly as something deep within him coils. _“Mm… Maker, yes!”_

The rapid rise and fall of Anders on his cock is mesmerizing, but no more than the blissful look the washes over his features when Anders slows, biting his lip and moaning. He comes only a little, his cock spent after so many rounds, before letting himself fall against Karl’s chest, melting into it.

Karl groans, unable to keep himself from sounding disappointed. The sudden stop has stilled his own orgasm just before it crested, unable to hold onto the tension slowly bleeding out of him.

When Anders lifts his head, Karl sees that his eyes are returning to their normal shade, no longer wide and dark from arousal. He gazes at him through heavy-lidded eyes with a sense of deep satisfaction like an aura that rolls off him in waves.

“Thank you,” Anders says, sounding sleepy but happy. When Karl hums in response, Anders tenses and pulls away, frowning. “You still haven’t…?”

“No,” Karl admits, looking the other man over before venturing forward. “But you’ll help me, right?”

Anders pushes himself up onto his elbows and nods eagerly, wishing to return the favor.

With permission given, Karl wraps his arms around him tight, twisting them until Anders is flat on his back. Karl sits back on his heels and tucks a hand behind each knee, tugging Anders closer. Those skinny, coltish legs wrap around him, fitting the two of them together perfectly. Karl leans forwards, rubbing his cock back to full hardness as he kisses Anders deeply, tongue sweeping past his lips to taste him.

Karl easily slips into his stretched, gaping hole, bottoming out quickly. Anders hums, a mixture of pleasure and pain, reaching his arms around Karl before nodding, _‘ready.’_

The rocking pace, steady and firm, that Karl sets doesn’t last more than a minute. Having staved off his orgasm for so long, Karl’s thrusts swiftly break into rapid, deep ones that rock the wooden bedframe against the wall.

Anders grasps at him, nails raking down his back as he holds onto dear life. He loses the capacity for words, his litany of _‘yes’_ and _‘please’_ and _‘more’_ fading to sharp, rough groans pushed from his lungs with every thrust into him. His breath tickles Karl’s ear and neck, barely keeping up with the tempo.

Pounding hard and fast into Anders, Karl feels the familiar heat build up again. It spreads throughout his body, warming even his bones. He’s so close— _so close_ —to the brink, teetering over the side like a book on the edge of a table before it falls. He feels it building, coiling and tensing more and more until he feels like a bow about to be fired. Before he comes, Karl starts to pull out, only to be stopped by Anders’ hand grabbing hold of his hip. 

“Inside,” Anders says.

And it’s that simple request that sets Karl off. With a deepening growl, Karl comes inside Anders, something he’s never done with anyone else before this. Both of them are panting, chests heaving. Karl pulls out gently, careful of hurting Anders. He feels a little overstimulated from the night’s unusually athletic events, but Anders must be overly so, having come so many times in such a short period of time.

Karl retrieves his stained nightshirt from the floor, using it to wipe the both of them clean. The sheets, however, were a lost cause they’ll have to bear for the night.

After dumping the soiled shirt on the floor, Anders reaches up with both hands, cupping the side of Karl’s face with such a tender, almost reverent look in his eyes. He pulls Karl down for a surprisingly chaste kiss, lasting no more than the span of a breath.

“All better?” Karl asks, barely pulling away to speak before leaning in again. He feels Anders smile against his lips.

“All better.”

+

Breakfast the next morning proceeds as usual, the three of them gathered in the same spots at the same table they’ve had for years. If it weren’t for the numerous conversations in the dining hall, it would almost seem as if the day before—the book, the curses—had never happened.

“Well,” Enchanter Godwin starts, stabbing a spoon into his mealy boiled oats. “Yesterday was interesting, wasn’t it? Cera told me that the book is in a new hiding place now, but no doubt someone will find it again in a few years.”

“Did anyone end up floating?” Karl asks, trying to ward of flashes of memory of last night.

“Not that I heard, but I was in the library for most of the day,” Godwin replies, shrugging. “But someone did change colors though.”

“Green, how disappointing,” Petra adds. “I had my hopes… Good morning, Niall.”

At the mention of his roommate, Karl looks up just in time to see Niall join them at the table, pushing his plate of half-eaten food toward the center. Godwin immediately picks at it, snatching the other half of his toast and shoving it in his mouth.

“Good morning to you too, Enchanter Petra,” Niall says respectfully, just giving a nod to the other two men at the table. He looks pointedly toward Karl, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Seems like everything is back to normal, hm?”

Karl’s eyes drift toward the other side of the dining hall, quickly locating the head of strawberry blond hair gathered back into a ponytail. Almost as if he could feel it, Anders’ head turns and their gazes connect for a long moment. Cheeks turning pink, Anders looks away, but Karl can still see him grinning.

Karl smiles. “Not entirely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Possible warnings (vague spoilers ahead): Anders' age is left vague, he's only a few years younger than Karl, and everyone is easily over age of consent. As for consent, this could be read as dubious (Anders is essentially magically-drugged) but Karl is very careful and gets the best consent he can out of Anders before anything begins. There is an emphasis on consent.
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> [Link to the art on Tumblr](http://storybookhawke.tumblr.com/post/160662239310/storybookhawke-those-damn-tevinter-curses)
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> Find me on tumblr @ storybookhawke  
> I'd love to hear what you thought!


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